


Snowballs and Hot Chocolate

by Castiel_For_King



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, Pre-Slash, snowball fights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 13:21:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiel_For_King/pseuds/Castiel_For_King
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean remembers the first time Cas experienced the shocking feeling of snow against his bare skin.  He also remembers it as one of the best days of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowballs and Hot Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> The Destiel is very, very light, pre-slash. Just a fluffy little one shot I had the urge to write because it was the first snow fall in my region today.

Dean released a wide mouth full of breath just to watch it fog in a cloud in front of his face. He pursed his lips and pushed another lungful from his chest, watching disinterestedly as it shot into the chilly air like a smoky harpoon.

 “I hate winter,” his giant of a little brother muttered beside him.

Sam had his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket and there was a scowl on his usually soft face and Dean straightened from where he had been leaning over the open hood of the impala, shooting his brother a pointed look whilst shoving his own hands into his jacket for warmth.

“Well, if you hadn't left the lights on in my baby then you wouldn't have to stand out here and help me jump her.”

Sam's scowl deepened but he didn't argue.  Instead, he kicked at the foot of snow that had fallen overnight in irritation.

“Whatever.”

Dean sighed, quelling the bubble of laughter that rose in his chest in favour of arranging his face into a mocking smirk. “I forgot how moody you get when you're hungover. You really can't handle your liquor,” he goaded.

His efforts were rewarded when Sam's scowl deepened into something a little more dangerous and he was shot a nasty glare. The fact that Sam's face was drawn with nausea and what was likely a pretty epic headache made Dean feel a _little_ less angry that he had not only drained the Impala's battery but _also_ drank the last bottle of scotch with Charlie last night while the two of them sat in the back seat singing to sad country music. How the two of them hadn't died from hypothermia was a mystery.

When he felt that the car had been running long enough that the battery would now be able to function properly, Dean disconnected the jumper cables and closed the shiny black hood. As he fell into the front seat to kill the ignition, Sam silently - and a little petulantly - wrapped the cables around the generator, cursing under his breath when his hands, stiff with cold, kept fumbling and dropping the thick chords.

When Dean closed the door and pushed his keys into his pocket, looking through the window to double check that the lights were, in fact, off, the door to the bunker suddenly opened violently and smashed off the wall behind it with an ear splitting _CLANG_ , making both he and Sam snap upright in alarm.

There seemed to be some kind of struggle happening just inside the door. He could see flashes of body parts; a hand, a knee, a flash of brown hair; not enough to tell what exactly was going on but just enough to make the whole thing look like something out of a ridiculous comedy skit. He knew Charlie and Cas were the only two in the bunker at the moment and, though they got along like a house on fire, they had a tendency to act like complete children, often working themselves into tickling matches or pillow fights, chasing each other around the bunker, screaming, laughing, pranking, sometimes arguing nastily when one of them beat the other at a video game...to the point where Dean sometimes felt less like their friend and more like their parent.

A loud shriek of indignation split the cold December air around them, making the brother's jump, and the sound was high pitched enough that it was hard to tell who it had come from, which caused Dean's mouth to twitch into the beginnings of a smile.  The shriek was closely followed by a few more half growls and bursts of laughter before Cas finally managed to escape from whatever situation was happening just out of sight and he was suddenly running - barefoot, the moron - from the door in the general direction of where Sam and Dean were still standing by the car.

Cas got _maybe_  ten steps into his escape from the doorway before the grin dropped from his face like someone had slapped it away and his eyes widened comically. He stuttered to a halt that lasted a mere fraction of a second – enough time for the nerve endings in his feet to send a message to his brain that something was not quite right – before he was bounding the remaining ten feet to the car and vaulting onto the hood, his face a mixture of shock and fearful curiosity as his eyes snapped this way and that, taking in the blanket of white coating the ground and trees like it was the first time he'd ever seen snow.

Dean fought valiantly to contain his laughter, the effort making his diaphragm spasm as he leaned against the side of the car to watch Cas closely. With a glance over his shoulder he saw that even Sam's surly, hungover, scowl had been replaced with a wide grin.

On the car, Cas had his knees drawn up to his chest, feet hovering in the air just above the icy hood of the Impala, hands bracing behind him. His blue eyes were wide and after a second of looking around, his face collapsed into one of discomfort and he moved his hands around the grasp his freezing feet, toes pale where they peeked out beneath his fingers.

His wide eyes found Dean's. “It's _cold_!”

The tenuous self control Dean had on his laughter broke and he doubled over, positively howling. He was glad to hear Sam beside him in much the same state because that meant he wasn't the only jerk laughing at poor, newly human Castiel, sitting bemused and alarmed on the hood of the impala.  By the time he finally managed to get himself under control and straightened up again to face Cas, the angel was sitting cross legged, arms also crossed over his chest, and there was a pissy look brewing on his face that had the potential to dwarf Sam's worst.

“Sorry Cas,” Sam wheezed behind him, “But that was hilarious.”

Cas looked away, down at the ground, and the bitchy look on his face melted away, brow smoothing with that familiar look of innocent curiosity that never failed to make Dean's heart swell with equal parts fondness and protectiveness. Sometimes, like whenever he got that look on his face and tilted his head to the side like a puppy, he forgot that Cas was a several millennia old ex-warrior angel of the Lord. Cas was wise, but naive and Dean was constantly having to remind himself that Cas was having overwhelming amounts of new experiences every day.  Some things - even small things that didn't even register in Dean's brain - were alarming, confusing or sometimes frightening for the newly turned human.  Just yesterday Castiel had jumped a foot in the air when the toaster went off and scared the hell out of him.  The day before that he'd almost set the microwave on fire because he didn't know to take the tinfoil off the leftovers before reheating it.

So he, Sam and Charlie were still in the long, long process of teaching an angel how to be human, and that meant seeing every day, ordinary things through Castiel's eyes and remembering to be patient, because almost everything was a brand new experience for him.

And sometimes, like this one, the new experiences ended up being pretty damn funny.

It was the first snowfall since Cas had lost his grace and while the angel had felt cold before, particularly when the heater had broken in their motel room on the road trip back to the bunker, he'd never felt anything like the shock of snow against his bare skin.

Cas uncurled tentatively from his ball on the hood of the car, leaning over the edge and slowly, gingerly, reaching down past the wheel to drag his fingers through the top layer of snow. Dean saw a small smile curl the edges of his full lips and felt the corners of his own mouth pull up.  Cas dipped his hand fully into the snow and then straightened back up with it clinging thickly to his warm hand and he watched it melt quickly, hand dripping wet within seconds.

“Hey angel face!” Charlie called, appearing in the doorways and walking out to the car. She'd obviously gone back into the bunker to retrieve her shoes and jacket and was kicking at the snow as she walked to the car, making it spray up in a frozen shower. When she reached Cas she brought her hand out from behind her back with a smile and thrust Cas' own boots at him. “Here.”

He pulled them on gratefully and slid off the the car, his eyes firmly on the ground as he bent and scooped up a handful experimentally. While Charlie leaned in to whisper something in the angel's ear, Dean turned to his brother, who was looking considerably less hungover, the cold snap in the air drawing blood, and rosy colour, into his cheeks.

“We got any hot chocolate?” he asked with all the nonchalance he could muster, but the warm glow in his chest was making it hard to keep his voice as neutral as he'd like.

Sam gave him a strange look. “Uh...we might have cocoa powder but ready made? I doubt it.”

The elder brother shrugged, “That'll work.”

“Any particular reason? I don't think I've ever seen you drink hot chocolate,” Sam pried with that small, knowing smile of his that told Dean he knew something Dean probably didn't want him to know.

"I drink it sometimes,” he countered defensively. “Just 'cause you've never seen me drink it doesn't mean I never have. I don't cease to exist when you walk out of the room, you know.”

He realized when Sam pursed his lips - obviously an attempt to keep a shit-eating grin under control - that he'd reacted a little too vehemently to the subtle taunting. But it was too late now and Sam had once again tricked him into confessing something that _he_ didn't fully understand, but that seemed to please his brother to no end.

“I hate you,” he muttered quietly.

Sam's face morphed into one of shocked disbelief and it was almost good enough to seem sincere. “I didn't do anything!” he cried, hands splayed out to either side of his body incredulously.  Although the sincerity was, again, ruined due to the fact that he was grinning broadly.

Dean pointed a finger threateningly. “You know exactly what you did-”

An icy blast of snow exploded over the back of Dean's head, cutting him off mid reprimand. He felt a muscle in his left eye twitch and he turned slowly, jaw clenching when he felt cool water carve a path down the back of his scalp.  Cas and Charlie stood side by side about twenty feet away, both wearing identical looks of shock and mild fear, jaws slack and eyes wide.

Ever so slowly, Cas pulled his arm from where it was hanging limp at his side and pointed accusingly at the red head.

The icy water was trickling down the back of his neck now, and Dean kept his glower fixed on what had just become the enemy as he slowly bent over to scoop up snow with both hands. When he straightened and began to form a large ball he brought his voice down to it's most intimidating register and gave Cas a pointed look that promised severe retribution, because there was no doubt in his mind that the angel had been the one to fire the first shot.

"You don't understand what you've started, angel.” He was unreasonably satisfied when he saw Cas swallow and glance nervously at the redhead when she began to back away.

She was heading for the line of trees that edged what they called a driveway and Dean saw her mutter something to Cas out of the corner of her mouth.  It took him a split second longer than it should have to realize that she wasn't backing down but going for cover behind one of the large trees.

Dean caught Cas' eye again and he tossed the snow ball in the air with one hand in a playful threat before cocking his arm back like a pitcher ready to throw one hell of a curve ball and pegged it at the angel with everything he had.

Frustratingly, Cas' reflexes hadn't been diminished by even a fraction in his change from heavenly warrior to near-human and he twisted his torso away from the icy projectile almost subconsciously - as if the movement was merely an after thought - and it sailed past him, missing his body by inches. Once he realized he'd dodged Dean's attempt at revenge he flashed the hunter a mischievous grin that was mostly in his eyes and scurried behind the large and ancient tree trunk with Charlie.

Dean turned to Sam, “Dude, start making snow balls,” he ordered, not even looking to make sure Sam did as he was told before squatting down and starting to make his own.

Two minutes later and they both had a decent pile in front of them and Sam started gathering his up in his arms.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, looking at his brother's smaller load of snowballs and thinking that wasn't going to be near enough ammo to fight with.

“Moving behind the car for cover,” was the sensible answer.

“Oh. Good idea.” Dean had just begun to gingerly pile the balls of snow in his arms when a vicious war cry pierced his eardrums and he spun around in alarm, some of the snowballs tumbling from his arms and breaking apart on the ground.

Charlie was charging at him, her mouth open and teeth bared, a snowball in each hand - both of which were launched, sailing through the air towards his face like heat seeking missiles. He dove out of the way, effectively crushing the rest of his hastily crafted ammo but also managing to miss being hit. He rolled behind the car, back slamming into the front wheel and held his hand out for one of Sam's snowballs.

His brother pushed one into his hands and the two of them turned to peek up over the edge of the hood.

“Where did she go?” Sam whispered.

Dean looked around but the whole clearing was deserted. The trees stood silent, no breeze rustling their drooping, snow laden branches. No birdsong. No sound of snow crunching under someone's boots.  Nothing.

“Where the hell are they?” Dean echoed his brother, the little hairs on the back of his neck standing on end with the sudden feeling of being watched.

Sam stood up slowly, a small frown on his face.

“What are you doing, you moron?!” Dean hissed, “Get down!”

But Sam shook his head, “I think they ran back to the bunker-”

With the vast expanse of white all around them it was no wonder Sam did not see the snowball flying right at his face until it was too late. It smashed into the side of his head and he fell to his knees with a surprised shout, blinking icy water out of his eyes.

“Dammit!”

“I told you to get down,” Dean admonished.

“Shut up.” Sam wiped the water from his face and dusted the snow from his hair and when he looked back up his face was set with determination and he passed Dean another snow ball.

“It came from the trees over there,” Dean pointed over his shoulder, unwilling to put his head above the edge of the Impala again. Instead, he peeked underneath the car. “I see them!” he gasped. “Between that big ass tree and the one with the broken branch!”

He could see Charlie and Cas huddled together. Cas had a wide grin on his face and Charlie was mimicking Sam's dazed expression after the snowball hit him and the two of them threw their heads back in silent laughter.

He stood up abruptly, “Quit hiding, cowards!” he taunted, kicking Sam with his foot to get him to stand up too.

The angel and the hacker had moved to hide themselves behind the larger tree as soon as Dean had shouted but suddenly Cas ran from their cover spot and out into the clearing and the brothers both turned to pelt him with their snowballs. Miraculously and infuriatingly, Cas managed to dodge every single one, throwing his own with exceptionally good aim for someone who'd never had a snowball fight before.

 "Hey boys.”

They turned to see Charlie right behind them and had a split second to try and scramble away from the car at their backs before they were being pelted from both sides, bursts of cold hitting Dean in the shoulder, back, thigh, ankle. Both he and Sam instinctively threw their arms over their heads, cowering under the hail of icy snowballs as they exploded over them, bits of snow sneaking under the collar of their jackets and making them squirm and cry out sharply with the shock of it.

The whole thing lasted mere seconds and finally Cas and Charlie had used the last of their ammo and retreated together, running back towards the safety of the trees before the brother's could even register that the barrage had ended.

“Oh _hell_ no!” Dean cried, sprinting after them and hearing Sam right behind him.

His longer legs easily gained on Cas in a few strides but he had to throw himself the remaining distance in order to grab the angel before he reached the safety of the trees.  He tackled the smaller man to the ground and snow enveloped them, ripping a loud, sharp cry from Cas' throat with the jarring impact of snow blowing up under his shirt, the thin material providing absolutely no protection.

Dean was able to pin him easily due to the fact that the angel was frozen with the unfamiliar shock of cold, but after a second, Cas was struggling in his grip.

He held firm, pinning Cas' wrists in the snow over his head and straddling him, pinning the squirming angel with his more substantial weight.

“Dean!” Cas cried, half in amusement and half in discomfort as he tried in vain to toss the bigger, heavier man off him.

“Don't start what you can't finish, Cas!” Dean laughed, letting go of one of the angel's wrists to swipe a wave of snow onto his face.

But Castiel's hand - now free of Dean's hold - darted out and shamelessly bitch-slapped him across the face.

Dean reeled back from the surprise and sheer ridiculousness of the action and his momentary lapse was enough for Cas to throw him off and scramble away.

“Cas! Look out!” Charlie's voice rang in warning and Dean looked up in time to see his brother crash into Cas' from behind and grab him in a giant bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides effortlessly and lifting him clear off the ground.  Castiel snarled like an angry cat and kicked his feet into empty air, struggling.

The side of his face stinging slightly - and his ego stinging a little more - Dean stood and made his way over to where Sam still had Cas immobilized, trying to look as menacing as possible. But before he could reap his revenge he saw a flash of red hair over Sam's shoulder and he opened his mouth to warn him - really, he did - but it was too late. Charlie ran and leapt on Sam's back, managing to wrap her skinny legs around his waist even as Castiel struggled and her arms snaked around his neck, latching on like a koala and growling like an angry dog.

“Release him at once!” she screamed into Sam's ear, making him jerk his head away from the loudness of her voice.

She began smacking his ear with angry flicks of her wrist and her sudden appearance seemed to breathe new life into Cas' and the angel twisted, wriggling his way out of Sam's distracted hold like a cat. Once he was free Charlie tightened her arms around Sam's neck, let her feet fall to the ground and yanked him down with more strength than Dean would have thought she had.

Sam's spine bent backwards and he clawed at the arms around his neck as Cas full body tackled his long legs and the three of them went down like a house of cards, a cloud of snow exploding around them as they hit the ground in a heap.

Through the laughter that was making it difficult to keep standing, Dean scrambled to dig his cell phone out of his pocket and readied the camera as the snow cloud settled.

Sam was on his back in the snow, Charlie was kneeling on his hands, one knee in each of his giant palms, efficiently pinning them down and Cas was sitting on his thighs, calmly pushing handfuls of snow under his brother's jacket - Dean was impressed because he'd have been screaming if someone shoved snow under his shirt - while Sam snarled and swore and tried desperately to throw them off.

Dean snapped a picture through his laughter, hoping it turned out decent because he couldn't see properly through the tears in his eyes. When he wiped them away he saw Charlie shove a handful of snow down the neck of Sam's jacket and his brother shrieked like a little girl, finally breaking the tough façade he'd worked so hard to maintain throughout the attack.

“Dean!” his little brother cried desperately.

He took pity and marched over to Cas, grabbing the angel under the arms and hauling him off his brother.  But he paused when he realized that the angel was shivering and took a second to look Cas over.  

His thin shirt was soaked through with melted snow and the skin underneath was radiating no warmth at all. He looked down at the angel's hands and they were white with lack of blood flow and Dean was sure he could see them trembling. He placed a hand on the angel's shoulder and could feel the muscles vibrating, shivering, under his hand.

“Oh-kay!” he said loudly, clapping his hands together. “Time to go inside before Cas here catches hypothermia!”

Once Cas had been lifted off his legs Sam easily dislodged Charlie, catching her in an iron headlock and grinding his knuckles into the top of her head while she squawked indignantly at the speed with which she'd gone from victor to loser.  However, at Dean's announcement, Sam froze and looked over at Cas.

“Hot chocolate?”

Dean nodded and Sam reluctantly released his captive and she took a moment to pretend to look angry and straighten her clothes. Together, they all walked back to the still open door of the bunker and Dean watched closely as Cas wrapped his arms around himself. Now that he no longer had the distraction of the fight it was obvious Cas had suddenly become aware of the fact that he was near frozen.

“Cas, go change or you're gonna get sick,” Dean ordered sternly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Cas listened.

Charlie and the two brothers stripped off their jackets and boots and Dean left them to trudge to the kitchen, muscles stiff with cold. He put the kettle on to boil, set four mugs down on the counter and spooned what looked like a good amount of cocoa powder into each mug before adding twice as much sugar. He rested his hands on the counter top and watched as steam started escaping the spout of the kettle and, unbidden, an image of Cas running and jumping on the hood of his car, eyes wide with shock, made a sudden burst of unexpected laughter punch out of his chest and he shook his head.  Cas' wide-eyed curiosity wasn't something Dean would ever get tired of.

Charlie's voice drifted into the kitchen, moving slowly from the library into the living room, and Dean caught snippets of her conversation as she spoke.

“...see his face...so funny...when you tackled him...he went down like a tree!”

It was now evident that she was talking to Cas about Sam and a second later he heard Cas' rumbling laugh drifting from the living room. There was a lull of silence in which the kettle finally came to a boil and Dean filled the four mugs.

“Do you need help?” Cas' voice, suddenly behind him, asked.

Dean turned to see the angel peeking his head around the door frame and he smiled wide, “Sure.” He handed Cas a spoon and pointed to two of the mugs, “Stir until the cocoa dissolves.”

They stood in comfortable silence, the only sound the clinking of metal spoons against porcelain mugs, until Dean felt the need to speak.

“So. How was your first snowball fight?”

Almost immediately a grin spread across Cas' face and he ducked his head. “I think I was lucky to have Charlie on my side.”

“You held your own, man. I mean, me and Sam would have kicked your ass, but...”

Cas nudged him with his shoulder and Dean laughed, warmth spreading through his chest that had nothing to do with the taste test of hot cocoa he'd just swallowed. He hummed around the sugar laden liquid.

“Good?” Cas asked, blue eyes watching him closely.

Dean nodded. “'Course it's good. _I_ made it.”

Cas indulged him with a roll of his eyes and grabbed his two mugs, leading the way back into the living room. He handed one to Charlie where she sat curled up in a large, overstuffed and comfy armchair and gave the other to Sam and then sat down beside Dean in the middle spot on the soft couch; Dean took the other end and handed him his mug.

“What are we watching?” Cas asked, blowing the steam off the top of his drink.

Charlie perked up, “Lord of the Rings!”

Sam groaned. “Again?!”

She pointed to Cas, who blinked at the accusing gesture. “Cas hasn't seen it yet," she argued.

“Fine,” Sam dragged out the word and rolled his eyes, but settled deeper into the end of the sofa.

Charlie bounded over to put the movie in and Dean felt Cas relax next to him, sinking back in to the couch, arm brushing his when he raised the mug to his lips. He looked over just in time to see Cas' eyes flutter shut and a low moan rumbled in his throat.

“Good?” Dean laughed.

The angel nodded. “Very.”

Cas' pink tongue darted out to clean the chocolate from his lips and his long fingers were wrapped evenly around the mug to gather the warmth bleeding through the ceramic.  Now that they were out of the cold, the color was returning to Castiel's skin, making it golden once more.

When he finally managed to pull his gaze off the pleasing sight of Castiel's profile - really, a jawline that sharp and cheekbones that perfect was absolutely ridiculous - Dean saw Sam staring at him over the top of Cas' head. He had that knowing look on his face again and it was so very irritating. Unfortunately, he couldn't tell him to knock it off because then Cas would look at him all confused and he'd have to explain why he'd yelled at Sam and then that look on Sam's face would just intensify and things would get really awkward really fast.

So, instead, he settle for sticking his tongue out and turning his attention to the tv so he wouldn't have to see Sam roll his eyes at his complete lack of maturity.

Once Charlie was curled back up in her chair they started the movie and Cas pulled his feet off the floor to sit cross-legged, his favourite moving-watching position, causing his left knee to rest against Dean's thigh, heavy and warm.  

Dean cleared his throat and gulped down another mouthful of hot cocoa, trying to ignore the heat of Cas' leg against his and the burn of Sam's smug gaze on the side of his face.

Half an hour later and Dean had almost been able to lose himself in the movie and push away thoughts of how much he wouldn't mind it if Cas lean against him a little more.  There was no non-revealing way to make that happen, though his brain _did_ try and offer up some suggestions.  But everything he managed to think of seemed like it would be too much. Too obvious. Too intimate for the angel - who was still up to his eyeballs in adjustment issues.

So he forced himself to focus on the movie instead of his growing desire to just let his arm fall from the back of the sofa to lay across Cas' shoulders.  He managed it, but only just.  Had even gotten his fingers to stop drumming against the fabric just behind Cas' head...that is, until four hobbits went tumbling down a hill and landed in a ridiculous heap at the bottom - talking about mushrooms, of all things - and Cas started laughing so hard that he placed a hand on Dean's thigh to keep from falling over and Dean's was right back to where he'd started, with a little extra shot of adrenaline due to the feel of Castile's large hand on his thigh.

Thankfully, the movie quickly grew serious again and Cas settled down, even became tense when Frodo nearly put the ring on his finger before Samwise brought him to his senses.

But Cas' hand didn't move from his thigh and was reflexively gripping and releasing his leg every time something intense happened on the tv. Dean quickly glanced sideways at the other man but couldn't tell if Cas was doing it on purpose or if he was just really engrossed in the movie and didn't realize what he was doing. Judging from his wide blue eyes and the little gasp he released when a wraith suddenly burst out of the trees in front of the fleeing hobbits, Dean supposed it might be the latter.

When the hobbits made their miraculous escape from the wraith, Cas released a small breath and, with it, his hand left Dean's leg, the spot feeling too cold once the angel's hand had gone.

Another hour in and Sam was snoring lightly, Charlie was peering stubbornly through dropping eyelids, her head rested on her folded arms, and Cas' mug kept teetering perilously before his grip would suddenly tighten on it again.

When the cup came particularly close to falling, Dean gently pulled it from the angel's hands, making the man jerk back to full consciousness and stare around blearily.

“Sorry,” Dean said quietly with a small smile at Cas' sleepy gaze. “Didn't want the cup to fall.”

Cas hummed in agreement and abruptly wriggled down further into the soft cushions, leaned his head on Dean's shoulder and pressed their sides together snugly.

Dean swallowed as something in his chest fluttered. “Comfy?” he asked, glad his voice sounded normal, even a little sarcastic.

Cas hummed again, eyes already closed, and Dean licked his lips, the nervous flutter in his chest quieting to be replaced by something light and warm and comforting and he gingerly brought his arm down from the back of the sofa and let it drape over Cas' shoulders. Any worry of being rejected evaporated almost immediately and the angel merely snuggled down further and he was sure he could feel Cas' face move in a small smile against his shoulder.

Dean grinned smugly and muttered out loud to the room, "Best.  Day.  Ever."

 


End file.
